


no wrong notes

by haplesspunk



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haplesspunk/pseuds/haplesspunk
Summary: During quarantine, a bored Harvey is mesmerized by his neighbor's piano playing.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	no wrong notes

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back with a silly quarantine AU. I know, AUs aren't everyone's cup of tea but it sure is mine and this is one of the hundreds of stories I have floating around in my head, lol. Like my previous story, this is based on a viral video by jerm_cohen on twitter (/status/1244364848231854080 if anyone wants to see). It's really cute and since I make everything I see on the internet about Darvey, I couldn't stop thinking about it until I wrote this thing, lol. I hope you guys like it!
> 
> A thousand thanks to my friend Amanda who put up with my whining, gave me ideas, sent me tons of Whatsapp stickers while reacting to this and threatened to beat me up if I didn't post this story.
> 
> I hope you guys and your families are safe, healthy, staying at home whenever possible and taking all protective measures against the virus :)

Harvey understands the need for isolation. He's not that much of an asshole who thinks there shouldn't be any protective measures during a pandemic. He doesn't want to be responsible for a more vulnerable person getting sick or even worse, dying.

That doesn't mean he isn't already sick and tired of it. And it is only been a week.

He's just not someone used to staying at home for long periods of time. He took some work home and is steadily working on it, but it only takes a few hours off his day. Just like his workout – he's going running every other day early in the morning, but that's just a portion of his morning. He's even trying to spend some time cooking but truth to be told, he doesn't bother to do elaborate meals and the easy dishes are done quickly.

So, he's been trying to burn through Netflix (which he's already getting tired of; he's not used to sitting around for hours doing nothing), or trying to find anything to fix around his apartment (tough to do when it's barely lived in), or trying to find books or silly games online (he's that desperate). And when he's not in the mood for any of the above, he takes a bottle of whiskey and decides to people watch on his balcony at night. Not that there's a lot of people outside for that to be successful, but he's getting drunk so that doesn't matter.

It's during one of those evenings spent on the balcony that he hears it, coming from the building across his. He's surprised he hasn't heard before, because for once his street is quiet and it's not such a faint sound, despite the distance. The soft sounds coming out of piano keys, melodies he can't recognize, but it's soothing and combined with the whiskey already in his system he's feeling very relaxed.

..

Another day, another late afternoon and early evening spent sitting on his balcony once again hearing the piano music. He can't recognize it at first, but as the song progresses he can tell it's a cover of Paranoid Android by Radiohead. It's not just a simple cover; the person added their arrangement on top of the song and it sounded incredible. From Radiohead, it went to a cover of Space Oddity, by David Bowie, once again with the pianist's arrangement.

Not only he's amazed by their playing, but he's also applauding their music taste.

After a few minutes of Bowie, they play more rock covers, all with their own arrangement. Harvey stays there listening until the person got tired of playing, drinking and letting the calmness wash over him.

..

This quickly becomes his routine. He exercises, he works, he cooks and he drinks on the balcony listening to his neighbor play the piano.

Every day the person plays a different genre, which impresses him both at how diverse their music taste and how big their repertoire are. Most of the time it's simple covers from what he can tell but still, it doesn't take away from his pleasure. And he's not the only one who's enjoying it – he's seen other neighbors from time to time show up on their own balconies or windows, swaying to the music.

He's gotten to the point he's on the balcony even before the pianist starts. He might be a little too excited about this but who cares, he's bored as hell and he's past the point of caring. So what if an unknown person's piano covers are the bright spot on his days?

Before he starts overthinking, the song starts. He thinks he knows this one – he's pretty sure it's Ella Fitzgerald and he smiles at the familiar tune. They follow with more Fitzgerald, and he starts singing the lyrics to They All Laughed to himself. From Ella, the pianist goes through Louis Armstrong and John Coltrane and more jazz singers. Harvey wonders if they know any Miles Davis. He's convinced that as soon as the quarantine ends he's going to find out who this person is so they can talk music.

As usual, he's just straight-up enjoying the music and drinking when he hears the intro of a song he'd recognize anywhere, in any instrument, from the very first note.

They're playing his father's music.

It makes him more emotional than he'd expect. So far, all the music he recognized was from popular bands and musicians; his father wasn't in their league. It leaves him wondering how they came about Gordon's music. He's glad his music touched them enough that they still want to play it.

Harvey blames it on the alcohol level in his system – which was becoming pretty high for a simple night alone at home – but now he definitely wants to meet this pianist and he does not want to wait until the end of the quarantine.

The song ends and he sits there, a little emotional. He thinks of it long enough to fail the lawyer in him miserably because he can't make up any argument against the terrible plan he's formulating.

He goes inside, looking around his house but he doesn't know what exactly he's looking for. How does he find out whoever lives in a specific apartment in a different building? He doesn't even know anyone else there. Hell, he barely knows his neighbors, let alone someone across the street. He grimaces at his anti-social behavior.

He's still looking around, trying to come up with something when he gets a glimpse of a box with a drone his brother had left in one of his shelves, the last time he visited. He can't even remember why it's there, but at that moment he's very glad to have it in his house.

He thinks he's too drunk for this because it sounds like a terrible plan and yet there he is, opening the box and reading the instructions to turn that thing on.

(It takes him a while. He _is_ too drunk for this.)

After some wrangling, the device is all ready to go and he grabs a piece of paper to write a note.

_Your playing sounds amazing_

_And you even played one of my father's songs._

– _Harvey, your neighbor from the building across yours._

He taps the pen on his chin, mutters a _fuck it_ and adds:

_Give me a call, it'd be cool to talk about music._

He adds his number, attaches the note to the gadget and hopes the person won't take this the wrong way.

..

He takes the drone out on the balcony and as he battles to get it up and going he thinks he might be trying a little too hard and the person might even break the thing, but two seconds later he dismisses it. If it happens he can buy his brother a new one. If they take offense… Well. That's a problem for the future.

Harvey begins to fly the device, slowly and directs it to the building across the street, specifically to the windows where there's light inside. He wishes the person were still playing; maybe the sound would've been helpful to guide him. Through the camera, he sees closed windows with people watching TV, or open windows but with no piano or people in sight. He can't lie to himself, he's beginning to feel like a creep.

Before he can feel guilty enough to give up on his search, the drone approaches an open window and from the camera, he can see dimmed lights… And a piano.

He can't see well from the angle, but it seems a person is sitting on the bench. A woman. Her long red hair falls on her face as she looks down at something on her lap, a glass of wine in her left hand.

He doesn't know what to do to get her attention unless he gets into her home and he thinks that a little extreme, so he keeps moving the drone hoping the motion will get her attention.

"This is ridiculous," he mutters and he is almost giving up before something goes wrong but before he can back out he notices the woman moving through the screen.

And she's looking directly at him – well, at his drone. She gets up and gets closer, her frown very noticeable, her hands poised in front of her – he thinks to close the curtains, maybe. That is until she cocks her head and stretches a hand to grab the note. He sees her reading, a smile threatening to appear with her lips curling upwards slightly. She rolls her eyes and moves away from the window – leaves the room altogether actually, and he thinks that's his cue to get his drone back home.

He doesn't hear more playing for the rest of the night nor does she call him. He doesn't know if he's disappointed or relieved.

..

He wakes up the next morning to a text from an unknown number:

_Not going to lie, that was a little weird. But thank you._

_Oh, and who's your father?_

– _Donna, your pianist neighbor_

A soft smile lights up his face and he doesn't think twice to reply at that very moment.

_Yeah, sorry about that. Can't say that was one of my proudest moments, but that was the best solution I could find in my inebriated state. My father is Gordon Specter. He was a sax player._

He throws his phone on the bed and goes to the bedroom to relieve himself, take a shower. About 15 minutes later and he's out, a new text waiting for him.

_I didn't know him personally, but I know he was good friends with my mentor. He used his friend's music for me to learn to add my own arrangement, including Gordon's. When he passed away I learned some more, it made my mentor happy._

He was about to reply, a silly smile still gracing his face, when he saw the little bubble on the screen; she was writing more.

_What a small world._

_Can I call you?_ , he finds himself typing.

Her message is instant: _Sure._

It takes her two rings to answer. "Hello?"

"Hey." He suddenly feels tongue-tied and kind of stupid because that never happens to him.

"Hi…?" She sounds like she's mocking him. That makes him feel even more stupid.

"So, um, first of all, I wanna apologize for the drone thing again. I didn't really know how to reach you otherwise."

"Oh," she snorts. "Yeah, if only you had neighbors to ask around."

"Well, it's not like I talk to any of them." He chuckles. "I was going to find out who you were after the quarantine, but then you played my dad's music and I couldn't wait," he finishes sheepishly.

"Gotta admit, that was smart. With a little invasion of privacy."

"I'm sorry!"

"It's fine. I hope you're done being a creep now."

"I wasn't a creep, I –" he sighs, ruffling his hair. "Okay, we're talking in circles."

"Yeah," she laughs. "So, Gordon Specter, friends with Neil, my mentor. You know him?"

He thinks back on his father's circle of friends. "Yeah, funny dude. Whenever I saw him he tried to get me to learn some instrument." His thoughts are filled with images of Gordon's old bandmates trying to get him to do more than watch, but he never showed any interest. "Haven't heard of him since my father passed away. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, still alive and kicking – well, playing. I know him since I was a kid, and he was the one who talked my parents into letting me learn how to play," she laughs. "So I guess you didn't follow your father's steps?"

"Nah. I've always been more of a spectator. Whenever he was home I'd always stay with him to see him practice; I'd pretend he was playing just for me, even though he'd clearly do it when I wasn't there as well," he snickers. He isn't used to talking about his father, but maybe he's still feeling a little emotional since he heard her play. And he misses him, always; He feels a pang in his heart thinking of all the times he sat next to Gordon as he played.

"I'm sure he made it a little more special for you when you were around," her soft voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Hey, are you playing later?" He says on an impulse before he decides to change the subject, his modus operandi when it comes to his father.

"Yeah, why?"

"Can I request a song?"

"Yes, you can. It doesn't mean I'll play but go ahead," she says in a humorous tone.

"Just…" His voice assumes a serious tone. "If you know anything else by my father, can you play? Or even if you don't – I don't mind if it's the same song."

She's quiet and the only thing making sure she hasn't hung up is the sound of her breathing. It wasn't such an incredulous thing to ask but he wonders if he made some wrong move.

"I'll think about it. I'm not sure if creep drone guys deserve to request music." She's teasing but he swears her voice had softened.

Hours later, he's on the balcony watching the day turning to night and enjoying whatever it is she's playing because he can't recognize when suddenly he hears the beginning of a very known song to him. He smiles and sends a text.

_Thanks._

..

"Hey, Donna." He greets her the next morning.

"Harvey. Calling to request more songs?" He laughs, glad for the opening because he didn't know why he called. He just wanted to talk. He blames this neediness on the quarantine, and definitely not on his usually lonely life.

"Maybe. I might have just called to chat."

"And don't you have anyone else to call?"

"Maybe I feel like calling you."

"Hmm. Lucky me," she teases.

He's quiet and this time she waits for him to talk. He truly has no reason to call her; he just thinks they hit it off, and he really doesn't have a lot of people to talk to.

"Hey, can we FaceTime?" He finds himself asking and hopes she won't think he's going too far.

"Give me a minute." She hangs up on him and he's suddenly nervous about it. It's just a FaceTime chat with a neighbor. It shouldn't matter so much and he's tired of not feeling his usual confidence around this woman.

Before he can over dwell on that, she calls again. He accepts the call and then looks at one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen. He had an idea before, through the dark and blurry glimpse he got on his drone, but wow.

He doesn't know said it out loud until she raises an eyebrow at him, amusement written all over her face.

"You're hot."

"Idiot." She smirks. "So, thought you wanted to chat. Or did you just want to gawk at my beauty?"

He rolls his eyes. "Just wondering how you're getting by during this quarantine. What do you even do, anyway? Are you a professional player?"

"I'm an actress, actually. And I'm doing all right, all things considered," a clouded look appears in her face but it's gone as he blinks. "My upcoming work was obviously postponed, so I finally have enough time on my hands to practice on my piano. Haven't done that in a long while."

"At least you have something to distract yourself. It's times like these I regret not having learned to play anything, despite my father being who he was," he laughs. "I was much more into baseball growing up."

"Oh, you play?"

"Not anymore – not that I played professionally, anyway. I'm a lawyer."

"Huh," she looks at him thoughtfully. "Yeah, you kinda look like one."

"I _look like one?_ " He laughs. "How does one look like a lawyer?"

"You just…" she gestures in his direction. "Kinda look like you have a stick up on your ass or something. And I've worked for lawyers. You're all the same."

Outraged, he stares at her for a beat, two, and deflates.

"Yeah, I kinda do." He chuckles and gives her a confused look. "Wait, you've worked for lawyers? You're an actress."

"But before I made it as an actress I needed to earn money somehow," she shrugs. He begins to wonder if they could've met in some capacity.

"Hey, what did you mean before, when you said all things considered?" He sees the teasing look on her face disappear. "If you wanna talk about it."

"It's nothing serious," she starts. "My parents live in Cortland and I wanted to stay there while we're in quarantine, but it was getting worse and I didn't want to get them sick, in case I was infected but asymptomatic." She gives him a sad smile. "I'm just too worried about them."

Seeing her this worried about her parents makes him a little disappointed in himself; he didn't even bother to check on his mom – not that he ever does, but still… this is an unusual situation. He doesn't know how he'd react if something happened to her.

At least he knows his brother would've told him if their mother were sick. He thinks. He's pretty sure.

"I'm sure they're fine," he says, uncomfortable. He doesn't know what it is to have parents anymore. She frowns quickly. He wonders if his discomfort is showing on his face.

"Yeah, they are. My mom calls me all the time – she's worried because I'm here by myself. I'm just being silly."

"It's natural. It's a tough time for everybody, I guess it's easier to have some worrying thoughts floating around. Especially since you're alone."

"Yeah. Glad to have my distractions now," she smirks, staring at him. He smiles.

"Okay, I have a work meeting soon but can I ask you something?"

"Every day there's a different request from you." She looks at him in exasperation.

"Just trying to make up for the fact that I sent a drone after you," he shrugs. "So, can we FaceTime while you play later?"

She's silent, only staring at him.

"It's fine if you're uncomfortable –"

"No, it's fine, I'm just not used to playing to anyone nowadays," she gives him a small embarrassed smile. "I'll call you."

"It's a date," he smirks and she narrows her eyes in return as they hang up.

..

She keeps her word and a few minutes before she usually starts she calls him.

"What are you playing today?" He asks as soon as she shows up on his screen. He can look at her face directly and figures her phone is propped up at the top. Her hair is up in a ponytail, no jewelry or makeup and a simple white sweater. She looks beautiful.

"Today we're feeling a little classical." She smiles at him and it's impossible for him not to smile back. He bets she didn't even notice he was included in her routine.

She looks a little nervous too, which he assumes if from having an audience – even if it's only him. "You gonna leave Chopin in the dust?"

Donna snorts, seeming to relax a little. "Please. I ended that one a long time ago."

She starts playing, looking down at the keys at first, softly moving her head to the melody. A few seconds later he sees her eyes close, a small smile gracing her lips.

He curses inwardly for not being able to see the whole picture she makes but just seeing from his phone has him mesmerized. He's torn between closing his eyes to enjoy the music or keeping them open to stare at the glow she radiates. She's magnificent.

When she ends the set, she opens her eyes and looks at his face. He's sure she can see the fascination in his eyes.

"Do you always play like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like… You're feeling every single note in every single cell of your body."

She blushes. "Not really, no. I usually look at my sheets. These are songs I've been playing since I was 8, though," she smiles. "I can let myself thoroughly enjoy it."

He is so very glad she let him see this part of her.

It becomes their new routine. She calls as she's about to start playing, he watches silently most of the time; sometimes he requests a song or two, and if she knows how to play, she does – if she doesn't and she's in the mood she looks it up so she can learn; other times they just start talking and she gets distracted enough to mess up her song. And as much as he likes her playing, he likes those moments even better. He likes her talking and laughing and messing up.

There was this one time they talked so much, she straight up gave up playing for the night.

"My neighbor called to complain that I didn't play!" She'd said between laughs, the next day. "She even asked if I went out. I had to tell her I got distracted talking to a friend, and when we were done I got tired."

"I'm your friend, huh?"

"Honey, you're the person I talk to the most, now. We are friends at the very least."

..

"I wanna go on a date with you." He's lying on his couch, watching her play once again. The question seemingly out of nowhere makes her fingers falter on the keys for a second, but she recovers soon enough.

"We're in quarantine."

"I know," he huffs. "I'm tired of this. I wanna see you."

He's even more frustrated than he's letting on. He's tired of staying inside for most of the day – actually, he's not even running now, with things getting worse in the city. He's tired of seeing her only through a screen. He wants to go out with her, take her to dinner, to the movies, the theater, the park, everywhere. He wants to touch her, kiss her, take her to his bed.

"You are seeing me," she smirks.

"Smartass."

"What do you want me to say? We can't go out."

She stops playing and sighs, staring at him.

"Let's have dinner."

"You just said–"

"You'll cook there and I'll cook here and we'll have a date. Through FaceTime."

Of course.

"That sucks." He rolls his eyes.

"It's either that or waiting for the quarantine to be over."

He stares at her hopeful face, waiting for his answer and for a person who doesn't care about putting some effort into dating or anything else beyond sex he's actually looking forward to that.

"So, Donna. Wanna have dinner tomorrow night, say, 7 pm?" He gives her his best Specter smile, to which she rolls her eyes, grinning and nods.

..

The next day, right before 7 he receives a text with a picture of her dinner.

_Hope yours looks as good as this x_

He looks at his simple dinner and calls her, putting his phone on the table so he can set the final touches to his dinner.

"It definitely doesn't. What did you even make?"

" _Pollo al Sugo di Carciofi e Profumo d'Arancia._ "

"Sounds fancy. And hot."

"Yeah, but it's just chicken with artichoke and orange sauce," she smirks.

He rolls his eyes as he sits in front of her and takes in her appearance for the first time. "Wow, you look… you look beautiful."

She'd dressed up – nothing too much, it was pointless – but she'd styled her hair and it was loose in waves on her shoulders; she didn't have on a lot of makeup, from what he could see, just something around her eyes and red lipstick. He wished he could see her whole outfit, but she was wearing a sleeveless black blouse with a neckline that left his mouth watering.

He'd felt silly for dressing up – well, wearing better clothes than sweats and basic shirts and actually doing something about his hair (which is getting too long for his liking and he needs to find a solution soon since barbershops were closed) but after seeing her he's glad he isn't embarrassing himself and put some thought in his outfit.

It should unnerve him that he's feeling happy they're both taking this poor substitute for a date seriously, but the thought is quickly forgotten by her radiant smile and the crinkle in the corner of her eyes.

He expected some smart-ass reply to his compliment, but she sounds sincere and a little shy, even. "Thank you. You clean up really well too."

"Just so you know. I can't wait to take you out and at this point, I don't care if it's one of the most expensive restaurants in the city or the questionable fast food down the street."

"Please not the questionable fast food, do you want me to get food poisoning?" She teases. "But I can't wait to go out with you."

They give each other silly smiles. God, he's a goner.

"So, what did _you_ make?"

"Spaghetti a la… it's just pasta and bacon with a marinara sauce," he chuckles as he opens the wine. He'd rather be drinking his scotch, but if they were on an actual date he'd be drinking wine with her anyway so switching up couldn't hurt.

He was about to take it to his lips when she got his attention.

"Hey, let's toast."

"Seriously?"

She just stares at him expectantly, and he rolls his eyes just for show as he brings his glass closer to his phone, watching as she does the same.

"To the most unusual first date." She says and he can't help but laugh. "So, what are we even going to talk about?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we've been talking so much lately, don't you think we'll run out of things to talk about?"

"I know we won't. Uh…" He looks at her curiously. "Been reading any books lately?"

"Books? That's the best you got?" She sputters. "And you already know what I'm reading, I've told you."

"See? We've exhausted all topics."

She snorts. "You're an idiot."

..

"I hope I get to see you on stage." He says, hours later after the food had been eaten, he had switched to scotch and she'd been nursing the same glass of wine for the past hour, while they talked about everything and nothing.

"I hope you do too."

"And making me go to the theater is a pretty impressive feat, considering I never go."

"Well, I'm Donna. I'm known to have some sway on people's lives."

"Hey, you never told me how you decided to become an actress."

They've talked extensively of several topics, some of them pretty near to her heart and yet the way her face opens up in a bright smile when she talks about acting… it's intoxicating. He loves how her eyes shine and she begins to speak so animatedly about it; he can't wait to see her in her element.

"I've always loved the arts and I've been doing school plays since I was little, so it seemed only natural, you know? It wasn't easy; it was tough to find jobs at first – you know, in the acting world, talent is not enough. You have to have contacts. I've told you I had to get a few jobs so I could pay rent and have something to eat."

"Yeah, I remember you said you worked for lawyers."

"That was one of the jobs I had to take. I even thought I'd have to give up acting at one point," she takes a deep breath. "That is until I had a part for this small play and a friend of the director was there – he was an agent. I blew him away, if I may say so myself."

"Of course you did." He nods, smiling slightly at how proud of herself she sounds.

"And now, here I am. Of course, I'm no legend but it's never been about that, to me. I like where I am. I like that I can do what I love, live comfortably and still go out on the street and not be recognized, you know."

He doesn't really, no. He thinks of his own professional life – how he's already at that comfortable stage, but he hasn't accomplished his goal to get to the top, to get his name on the wall. He hopes he'll be happier then.

"Just curious, which law firm did you work for?" He asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"Pearson Hardman."

He chokes on his scotch.

"No way," he says between coughs.

"What?"

"You worked at Pearson Hardman?"

"Yeah, I was Jessica Pearson's assistant for a while, a year or so I guess? I left because my agent had gotten me a demanding part at a play and I couldn't do both, despite Jessica helping me out as much as she could."

She's rambling but he had stopped hearing after Jessica Pearson and he remembers that when he had gone back to the firm after his time at the D.A.'s office Jessica was pissed because she'd just lost the best assistant that entire firm had ever seen – her words. Holy shit.

"...Okay, Earth to Harvey?" He snaps to attention to see her confused look.

"Jessica is my boss and I'm pretty sure you left right before I started there."

"You're lying," she laughs.

"I'm not, I can prove–I can put Jessica in this call if you want."

"Oh good, I can say hi to her. Maybe we can do some catching up."

He grabs his phone, looks at her with a raise of his eyebrows, smirking.

"Harvey, don't do that." She's laughing so hard, he's never seen anything better.

"Yeah. So you almost knew my dad, you worked with my boss, now what – next thing you know you're gonna tell me you dated my brother."

"Oh! There was this one time that Neil introduced me to Gordon's more handsome–"

"Donna!"

She snorts and it makes him laugh and then they're both laughing and he thinks it'd been a long time since he's had fun like this, before he met her.

..

It's become more and more common for them to drink and talk until either of them fall asleep, which is usually her. She doesn't play so much anymore. It makes him sad, but it makes it all sweeter when she plays because he asks.

This time, she had plans to play, but she had been drinking wine since he called, then they were chatting and next thing he knew she's drunk almost the whole bottle and he's surprised she's still up; she ended up not even touching her piano. That was fine by him because she was giggly and more uninhibited and he absolutely loves it.

He's in bed, his phone propped up next to his head and he's lying beside it, staring at the ceiling. He's getting sleepy but he doesn't want to turn it off before her.

"What are we gonna do when we meet?" He asks after a lull in their conversation, which he was certain she'd passed out and he's actually surprised when he hears her voice.

"What do you think?" She asks, all sultry-voiced.

"Donna?" He's surprised enough to turn to his side and prop up on his elbow; he just doesn't know if he's surprised by her comment or the fact that she was still awake, biting her lip and looking at him like she wishes he'd break his quarantine to go after her.

"What, I'm no prude."

" I didn't know your mind was in the gutter."

"Well, I've had a loooot of time to think about _stuff_ already." He can tell she's trying to look alluring but it's really late and she's had a lot to drink; she's failing miserably and she looks adorable. "So? My house or yours?"

"We're going to dinner first, then who knows, a movie? Then we're going for a walk in Central Park..."

"In public? Kinky."

"Donna!"

She snorts a laugh and sighs, lying down. She closes her eyes and he's sure she's gonna pass out in minutes.

"I wanna be with you," she mumbles, so quietly he wasn't sure he heard it or if it was his own thoughts – that was the one thought floating in his head for days.

They've said their fair share of suggestive comments, but it'd never been anything more than teasing, or so he thought. She'd never been this direct before, and he squeezes his eye shut, trying to ward off the feeling of disappointment growing in him, even if their entire situation is beyond his power.

"Me too," he whispers, watching as she succumbs to sleep.

..

"Donna."

"Mhm."

"You're snoozing."

"No, I'm not." She sounds really drowsy. And does she forget he can see her?

"Donna."

"It's not my fault this thing is boring a hell, Harvey. One is prone to fall asleep."

Harvey had just found out that it's much more entertaining to go through a Netflix binge if Donna's watching it with him. Or it would be if she were watching it instead of falling asleep.

(It still is because he thinks she looks cute trying to keep her eyes open, not that he would tell her.)

He was trying to introduce her to Survivor, a guilty pleasure of his. An extremely unsuccessful mission as she started snoozing halfway through the first episode.

"It's not boring." He's pouting. He doesn't even care.

"Okay, I'm sorry, it isn't." And now she's placating him like he's a 10-year-old child. "I'm tired, I told you I didn't sleep."

"No," he narrows his eyes. "You told me you got up early."

"Oh." Is she blushing? "Because I couldn't sleep, I got up early to clean my apartment. So are we still watching this or…" She gestures to the TV in front of her but he ignores it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she bites her lip. "I had a… dream and then I couldn't get back to sleep, that's all."

"Bad dream? Wanna talk about it?" Her eyes soften at his questioning.

"No, it was… frustrating. Sexually."

Oh.

He can definitely relate to that.

"Wanna talk about it?" He smirks when she rolls her eyes in response. "We've been through that. You won't let me go over there."

"I'm worried."

"We've been talking for about a month, Donna – quarantine has been longer actually because I'd been home for a week when we met. If we were to get sick, we would have already."

She shrugs apologetically and he goes on. "We live alone, there's no risk to infect other people… How about this. We hit 30 days in a week. How about we get together? We'll just stay inside."

"But the point was for us to go out and we can't."

"At this point I just want to see you, all right. I don't care where we'll go or what we'll do."

"Yeah, you'll sit here while I play," she smirks.

"If that's what we want to do, then that's what we'll do. So, what do you say."

She tries to rein it but she can't stop the smile that is gracing her lips.

"Okay then, it's settled. Now can we please watch something else? This is awful."

..

He wakes up feeling really good. He likes the opportunity to clean up – he shaves, he gets to wear clothes other than t-shirts and sweats, he styles his hair (or tries to make it presentable, at least. He needs a haircut).

He's not nervous. Harvey Specter does not get nervous around women, especially not one he's been talking to almost non-stop for a month and that's what he tells himself as he stares at his image in the mirror.

What the hell, who is he kidding. He can't wait to see her.

He's thoroughly smitten with Donna Paulsen.

He's so anxious that he finishes getting ready two hours before he's supposed to meet her. He tries to pass time checking emails on his phone or trying to find something to watch only to change his mind five minutes into whatever random movie he chose, or walking around his apartment, or going out on his balcony. He supports his arms on the railing, not really looking at anything in particular when a string of notes grabs his attention. He smiles.

He can't resist, he calls her. It rings for a while and he considers the possibility of her not picking up and it's a new weird feeling – she always answers, even when she's playing. He hears the music stop though and it makes him breathe a little easier.

"Anxious?" She says instead of a greeting as she answers the call.

"Not at all," he replies and just from her hum he knows she's not falling for his bullshit. "I guess you aren't since you're sitting around just playing, right?"

"Passing time, as usual." She starts playing again and he hears quietly for a while. "Aren't you tired? You're already gonna see me in a while."

"I don't think I can get tired of you."

He hears her suck in a breath as she's doesn't look up from the piano keys, trying not to smile.

"Come over already."

"Yeah?"

She stops playing again and gives him a look. "You're doing nothing but watching me play. Unless you're having second thoughts?"

He grins. "I'll be there in five, then."

..

It takes him a little more than five minutes but soon enough he's already in front of her door, the music she's playing becoming louder and louder.

She's playing Gordon again and he stops, his heart full. He wants to see her so badly but he doesn't want her to stop to open for him.

He should've expected she'd take care of everything though – he was about to lean on the door when he noticed it was already open. He grins and walks inside, following the sound through the hallway. He turns a corner and in no time she comes into view; he can't believe he's finally, _finally_ staring at her profile right in front of him. He's transfixed.

"I'd tell you to take a picture because it lasts longer but I'm sure you're tired of seeing me through a screen."

His grin gets impossibly bigger. "Got that right."

He leans against the wall and watches as she finishes the song. He wishes his father was right there with him, hearing her play – scratch that, he's sure Gordon would be fast friends already, and he'd be trying hard not to break his quarantine to play with her. Harvey's sure he would be crazy about Donna, probably as much as he is already.

She turns from the piano and he claps, his eyes shining. Donna gives him a shy smile suddenly seeming nervous.

"Hey."

"You sound even better in person."

"Yeah?" They stare at each other, both nervous. He chuckles at how silly they look.

"You're even more beautiful in person too." Donna rolls her eyes as she gets up and the look she gives him is like a magnet, pulling him closer and closer.

She's silent as she walks towards him and combined with how nervous he still feels, it makes him want to keep talking. He opens his mouth to say something but it gets completely wiped out of his mind when she closes the distance between them and locks her lips on his, her hands behind his neck. Harvey pulls her impossibly closer as he slides his tongue between her lips, caressing her tongue. He hears a moan as one of her hands leave its spot on his neck to roam around his shoulder, chest, arms until it pulls one of his hands.

Their lips break apart but Harvey wastes no time to shower her chin, neck, earlobe with kisses shudders when he grazes his teeth right below her ear. Her other hand, which had dropped to hold onto his arm, goes back to caress his hair, pulling it gently, trying to grab his attention.

He looks up at her parted, swollen lips and hooded eyes and he pecks her lips once, twice. The third time she bites his lower lip in retaliation and he laughs and then she's laughing with him and the moment is ruined but he doesn't care because her laugh is like music to his ears.

"Come on," she pecks his lips one last time and guides him through her apartment, walking him in the direction of her bedroom.

"Aren't we even going to hang out by the window," his voice is hoarse as he points randomly behind him, hopefully in the direction of her open window. "You know, take some fresh air or something?"

She turns to raise her eyebrow. "Fresh air is the last thing in my mind right now."

He just smirks and lets her take him into her room.


End file.
